
Ink Don’t Bleed Watsky (Ft. Anderson .Paak)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Ink Don’t Bleed" от Watsky (Ft. Anderson .Paak). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Verse 1: Watsky]
Some got hits about the racks that they earn
Say, there's Benjamins and Jacksons in their pockets to burn
But when they shoot the video, producers pass around a bucket
Full of rented jewelry for them to rock and return
I know a straight edge rapper who acts like a sheep herder
A vegan on the mic, who's screaming that meat's murder
But when everybody's sleeping, he be creeping
Slugging back the whiskey, hating himself and sneaking a cheeseburger
There's a pop idol at the top of the charts
And when her record's being cut, she's on the beach in St. Bart's
While a session singer, who didn't have the face to make it
Signs a nondisclosure agreement and belts out her parts
It's hard, 'cause I got bars that are big-uppin' Woody Allen
But maybe he's a predator who's digging in his talons
There's a balance, and often I don't know how to feel
In a fake and tainted world, seek the real
[Chorus: Anderson .Paak]
Now, I can't change the past, but
A man's gotta man up
It's hard to believe, tch
Sometimes, I get the best of me
Now, I'm doing what I can, but
I'm a man, not a damn chump
I can say it if you need
But I'd rather let the ink bleed
Some got hits about the racks that they earn
Say, there's Benjamins and Jacksons in their pockets to burn
But when they shoot the video, producers pass around a bucket
Full of rented jewelry for them to rock and return
I know a straight edge rapper who acts like a sheep herder
A vegan on the mic, who's screaming that meat's murder
But when everybody's sleeping, he be creeping
Slugging back the whiskey, hating himself and sneaking a cheeseburger
There's a pop idol at the top of the charts
And when her record's being cut, she's on the beach in St. Bart's
While a session singer, who didn't have the face to make it
Signs a nondisclosure agreement and belts out her parts
It's hard, 'cause I got bars that are big-uppin' Woody Allen
But maybe he's a predator who's digging in his talons
There's a balance, and often I don't know how to feel
In a fake and tainted world, seek the real
[Chorus: Anderson .Paak]
Now, I can't change the past, but
A man's gotta man up
It's hard to believe, tch
Sometimes, I get the best of me
Now, I'm doing what I can, but
I'm a man, not a damn chump
I can say it if you need
But I'd rather let the ink bleed
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